ything. Well, whatever I
say or do, never, never let me know--if you value my happiness, my peace
of mind, my life even!"

She laid her hand on his lips and then on his forehead to calm him,
drawing his head to her shoulder.

"Listen, Ben," she said, gently. "I, the Madeleine Conti who loves you,
am another being. I adore you so that I shall hate all other men, as you
will hate all other women. There will never be the slightest deceit or
infidelity between us. Ask any questions of me at any time. I know there
can be from now on but one answer. Have no fear. Do not tire yourself
in a senseless fever. There is so little time left. I love you."

Never had he heard her voice so deep with sincerity and tenderness, and
yet, as he surrendered to the touch of her soft hands, yielding up all
his doubts, he was conscious of a new alarm creeping into his heart;
and, dissatisfied with what he himself had a moment before implored, in
the breath with which he whispered, "I believe you," he said to himself:

"Does she say that because she believes it or has she begun to lie?"

II

For seven years they lived the same existence, separated sometimes for
three months, occasionally for six, and once because of a trip taken to
South America for nearly a year.

The first time that he joined her, after five months of longing, he
remained a week without crying out the words that were heavy on his
heart. One day she said to him:

"What is there--back of your eyes, hidden away, that you are stifling?"

"You know," he blurted out.

"What?"

"Ah, I have tried not to say it, to live it down. I can't--it's beyond
me. I shall have no peace until it is said."

"Then say it."

He took her face in his two hands and looked into her eyes.

"Since I have been away," he said brutally, "there has been no one else
in your heart? You have been true to me, to our love?"

"I have been true," she answered with a little smile.

He held his eyes on hers a long while, hesitating whether to be silent
or to continue, and then, all at once, convinced, burst into tears and
begged her pardon.

"Oh, I shouldn't have asked it--forgive me."

"Do whatever is easiest for you, my love," she answered. "There is
nothing to forgive. I understand all. I love you for it."

Only she never asked him any questions, and that alarmed him.

The second time report had coupled her name with a Gabriel Lombardi, a
great baritone with whom she was appearing. W